


Velut Luna

by Kagutsuchi



Category: Bleach
Genre: Action, Alternate Canon, F/M, Psychological Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagutsuchi/pseuds/Kagutsuchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even then, he was variable as the moon, though she didn't know it. A light shines in Las Noches, and it is not the moon, it is brighter than that. It is her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Millstone

The sickle moon cast its spell in a shallow pool of tired white light beneath her feet. She had slept all day. Or had she? The moon, fixed in its post like any good sentinel, never left her cell's window. She had no sense of time here, not even that attuned to thirst and hunger, since those had all but deserted her.

Her cell was furnished with a surprisingly comfortable couch and a toilet. She slept on the couch and did little else. Meantime, Ulquiorra Cifer, as fixed and invariable as the Las Noches moon, brought food to her cell and expected her to eat it. She did so, with difficulty, and he returned to take her utensils and subject her to the glower of his luminous green eyes.

Of late, he was not as chatty as he had been prior to the supposed death of her friend Sado. He merely watched her hand him her plate and fork and departed. So much the better.

She was the millstone. She hung around the necks of her friends, and this time, she would pull them under the sea of chaos and there would be no coming up for air. She pondered escape – but how? Aizen knew she would be easily overcome by the Arrancar. She considered suicide – she could just ask Tsubaki to slice through her with Koten Zanshun – but she knew her power was important to her friends and to Soul Society, and that if they could rescue her, she might be able to heal those who needed it and even bring back some of the dead. Besides, if she committed suicide, her friends would still try to rescue her, even if they were told by Aizen what she had done. They had no reason to believe him. And for them to come and find that she had killed herself would be to destroy their will to fight, for they would be pursued by the Arrancar as they fled. So she had languished in her cell, tormented by the thought of her imperiled nakama, until Ulquiorra had informed her of Sado's death.

She would not believe it, could not, for both selfish and objective reasons. They could not die because of her, that would be too much to bear. And they had come so far, surmounted so many obstacles, surely they could endure this one. Her slap of Ulquiorra's stony, Hierro-clad cheek had been a strange amalgam of bitter self-loathing and iron-clad faith in her friends. Girded with this amalgam, she had overcome the shock and horror that had lingered since her departure from Karakura Town. It had been of no consequence to the Arrancar, but of course, it had been of great consequence to her. She was, as any normal person would be, afraid of what her captors would ultimately do with her. But for now, she knew they would not harm her. They needed her skills.

"I'm coming in."

It was Ulquiorra again, this time to take her for her daily, hour-long stroll around Las Noches. She wondered why he bothered announcing his presence. She had assumed that his sudden appearance in her doorway last time had been a keen pleasure for him, given that all Arrancars seemed to take pleasure in things such as frightening others at every opportunity. So why should he announce his presence now? It seemed that, despite her slapping him, he would still refrain from barging into her room and scaring the living daylights out of her.

Moreover, she wondered why he bothered to take her for these walks – in the course of her healing duties around Las Noches, she walked around enough to keep herself in adequate physical condition. Yet he insisted on walking her alongside the uppermost parapet of the fortress every day, around what she took to be midday, based on her meal schedule.

"Is it time for a walk?"

"Yes, onna."

So she rose from her couch and followed him out.

 

Having been in Las Noches for some time now, she had unconsciously begun to admire its desolate beauty. She had been checking herself every time she caught herself in the act, but she had gotten to a point where if she did not give in to the admiration, she would find herself dwelling on her self-loathing or her fear for her friends. So give in she did, for she could not bear such thoughts for long.

Gazing at its silent dunes from the parapet, she thought of how much it resembled the face of the moon. For all she knew, it could be the moon. Or maybe they were on the surface of some celestial ocean, a reflection of the pale sentinel that shone, unflagging, upon her cell floor. Floating on a sea of chaos, and she, the millstone, dragging her friends into it.

"Do you like this particular view?" she asked Ulquiorra as she rested her arms on the edge of the parapet. Why did she ask him this? This had to be the first time she had spoken to him on one of their walks. It was her emotional weakness that did it – she was dwelling on her self-loathing and fear for her friends again, and her reflex in such situations was to talk with someone about something completely unrelated. Ulquiorra was there, so she was talking to him. No harm in that, right?

Unsurprisingly, he merely glanced at her. But it was one of those perplexing looks that he had started to give her whenever she said something to him. The first time he had done this had been when she slapped him. His eyes slid over her face slowly, boring into her. Then, just as slowly, he looked away.

She doubted he would say anything to her, but she nevertheless persisted in her one-sided conversation.

"I didn't like it at first, but it's actually rather lovely. Quiet. Not like Karakura Town at all. Karakura Town is lovely, too, of course. Lovelier! But this is still nice." He wasn't even looking at her. She continued. "I do wish there were some noise, though. Maybe just some wind to move the dunes around. I've always loved the sound of wind whistling at night. It's like it has some secret happiness, one that it's carried with it all day, and it only shares that secret with you at night, when all the other sounds have fallen away. Of course, you'd need trees for that, but –"

"Well, if it isn't Pet-sama and her master! Enjoying the view?" It was Nnoitra. Orihime had seen him during her daily rounds, but she never ceased to be terrified of him. His eyes seemed fixed in a permanent leer and his lip curled to expose pearly, deceptively innocent rows of teeth she could just imagine him running his tongue over. He began sidling up to her.

But before she could even think of edging away from him down the parapet, Ulquiorra appeared in front of her, between Nnoitra and herself. What impossible speed! There had been a deep thrumming of the air and he had materialized at her side. Her ears popped, as if the air had been decompressed.

"Hey, take it easy, Ulquiorra! No need to use Sonído. I'm just a fellow admirer."

"Leave if you have no real business here." She could not see his face, but she could see the muscles of his lithe, corded frame tensed through the thin cloth of his uniform.

"Oho, this is delightful. I've been watching you take Pet-sama for her walkies for some time now. Your attachment is delicious to ogle at."

"I've been aware of your skulking from the moment you started it, Nnoitra. I don't mind your unwanted presence, however despicable, so long as you keep your distance. I told you to leave. Do so. Now."

"Fine, fine. As long as I know I can continue my skulking." He grinned, and the glint of the moon was all that Orihime could see of his features, silhouetted as he was against the parapet. His towering, wraith-like form chilled her to the marrow. He left, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Wordlessly, Ulquiorra turned on his heel and continued on down the side of the parapet. Their walk had been cut short.

Ulquiorra returned Orihime to her cell and headed for his quarters. Before turning in for the night, he looked out over the parapet once more and wondered what wind sounded like.


	2. The Inhuman

"Fifty percent."

"Fifty percent what?"

"The Hogyoku is fifty percent awakened, as planned, Yammy."

"And what do you plan to do with it now?" Ulquiorra asked Aizen.

"Create a new being. A purer being. Granted, there will be a tradeoff. Though physically refined for combat, its intellect will be rudimentary at best. Of course, that means it will do exactly as I say."

Orihime shifted uncomfortably as she leaned against the wall, watching Aizen reach out to touch the Hogyoku in its crystalline case. He did so gingerly, as if afraid it might break. He did not, in fact, actually touch it; it touched him. Its metallic sheen darkened until it was totally black, and delicate tentacles extended from its surface to palpate his outstretched hand. Just after the tentacles of the Hogyoku made contact with his hand, there was a flash of light. Before the brightness of the light became blinding, Orihime could make out a quivering, misshapen form, completely covered in bandages inside a large crystalline box, enveloped by the light.

The light dissipated and a small and slender form shifted in the darkness.

"Comrade, what is your name?"

"Wonderweiss…Wonderweiss Margera," said the creature in airy, lilting tones. Orihime could see it now. It was not an it, but a wiry little boy with an unkempt thatch of blond hair. She looked on in shock.

"The Hogyoku's power is amazing, is it not, Orihime?" Aizen said offhandedly, "It's why you're here, you know." He turned towards her with a cold smile. "Every time I use it, it deteriorates just a little bit. But you, girl, with your extraordinary power, can reverse that process."

She wasn't listening to him, she was looking at the boy. He was very naked and completely nonplussed, looking up at her with a sheepish, moony face.

"H-how could you…he's just a child…"

"My dear, he only looks like a child. I assure you, he can fend for himself. He's doubtless more powerful than some of the Espada." Yammy shot a poisonous look at Aizen's back, but Aizen waved him off. "Certainly not the two of you, but powerful nonetheless."

Wonderweiss gave her a lopsided grin and a wall-eyed stare. She reached out to him, tears flowing freely down her face now. He took her hand and crouched happily at her side.

"Now, for the formalities. Ulquiorra, take her please."

"Come, onna." She left, wondering if she'd ever see the little boy again.

 

She had wanted to train that night. She had wanted to work on her resolve, on her killing intent, so she could escape and stop her friends before they stormed this hellish fortress to rescue her, the perpetual victim. But she could not get Wonderweiss out of her head.

Aizen had created a weapon from a little boy. And every time she tinkered with the Hogyoku she was granting him a false lease on fate's decree – that a weapon of such power should gradually cease to exist with every affront to human and spirit beings it perpetrated. She resolved to destroy it. If she could not overcome her status as victim, she would at least be a useful victim, willing to put to work the skills she had to undo a great evil. She didn't mean that in self-aggrandizing terms either – she was just a tool, not a hero. Her lack of will, especially compared to that of her friends, made that obvious.

There was a knock at her door. She was free to wander about as she wished – how would she get away? – but she kept it locked for her own safety. As if that would really matter if anyone actually wanted to come in. Initially, she had worried, but no one, not even Nnoitra, had bothered her for whatever reason.

"Who is it?" An incoherent gargle, but one that she recognized, was the reply. She opened the door.

Wonderweiss, now thankfully dressed, entered. He sat on her couch, smiling vacantly, and she started to cry again.

"Hello, Wonderweiss. What brings you here?" She sat next to him and smiled through her tears. He warbled happily and dabbed at her tears with his overlong sleeves. "I'm Orihime." He continued burbling, but she clasped his hands in her own and he stopped and looked at her attentively, or with whatever passed for attentiveness for him. "Orihime," she said firmly.

"Hime," he said absently.

"Orihime."

"Hime."

She laughed. "I'm not used to such a regal title, but I'll settle." She wished there was something she could do with him. There was nothing for it. They would go for a walk. She would brave the long, silent corridors of Las Noches for him. It was the least she could do.

She quietly unlocked the door, and with a sharp intake of breath silenced a scream when she realized Ulquiorra was right outside of it.

"What are you doing here?"

"Making sure you aren't bothered."

"Oh, yes, thank you." She looked at him, somewhat bewildered. He'd never done this before, or perhaps he had and she simply hadn't known. "Would you mind if I went for a walk with Wonderweiss?"

"No. But I must go with you."

"Alright." She started down the corridor. He grabbed her arm, and she felt a chill pass through her. Around him, she felt as if someone were perpetually walking over her grave.

"We are going the usual route."

"Why?"

"I know it best." So they headed the way they always went around midday, towards the uppermost parapet.

Along the way, she tried to teach Wonderweiss the names of things. He managed to seem interested, and by the time they reached the parapet, he was genuinely animated, gesticulating enthusiastically at the things she'd named for him and describing them with his pidgin Japanese. Ulquiorra trailed behind, silent and watchful.

"Wonderweiss, this is my favorite place," she said when they reached the parapet. "Those are dunes."

"Dunes." He ogled them blissfully.

"Yes, that's right." She looked as far she could see and found that she had completely forgotten how miserable she was. Wonderweiss grinned up at her, and she realized she could forget for a bit longer. She pointed up at the perpetual sickle of the moon.

"Moon."

"Moon!" It was tinted lavender in his strange, rheumy eyes. They stood there, gazing into the middle distance for some time.

"We should go," Ulquiorra said without preamble, giving Orihime a start.

"Alright." She took Wonderweiss' hand and he lollopped along beside her.

"Don't walk like that!" she snapped. He looked up at her from where he crouched at her side, confused and hurt. She softened. "Stand up. You are a human being." She pointed at his chest, and was struck by the proximity of that which made him very inhuman – the gaping hole in his torso. Her eyes swimming with tears, she urged, "Stand up."

When they reached her room, Wonderweiss curled up at the foot of her couch and hummed contentedly as he closed his eyes.

"I guess he'll be staying with me, then?" she looked hopefully at Ulquiorra, and he nodded. She sat on her couch. "I'll be going to bed." She looked at the door, expecting Ulquiorra to leave. But he did not. He stood in the doorway, staring at her.

"He's not human."

"What?"

"Wonderweiss. He's an Arrancar."

"Yes, well…" she trailed off and fought to suppress her sorrow. She would not cry about this, not in front of him.

"I don't understand why you pretend that you can find happiness here. You will never be happy here." She looked at him, askance. If anyone else had said this to her, she might have thought it was an expression of pity. But he said it without inflection, without affect.

"Don't take this from me too. You've all taken everything else." She said it without vindictiveness. She was too tired, and did not have the vigor requisite for self-righteousness.

He said nothing and left, locking the door behind him.


	3. The Profane

White on white on white on white on orange. Here, if he closed his eyes and covered the green streaks fate had slathered on his face, he could submerge himself in a seamless pallor, bereft of color or definition. Her orange hair was an insult.

But he had to take her with him. No one was to touch her, and around midday, too many Arrancar would have access to the corridor in which her cell was located. Taking her with him at this time was what Aizen-sama would want.

She was an insult to fate. She could undo most everything that happened to a person, and in so doing, she could defy the one universal aspect of death: emptiness. Dead is dead is dead is dead, just as this place was white on white on white on white, until she came here. A white wall, sunk in white dunes from which a white tree groped, against which a white robed woman leaned and tainted it all with her profane orange hair.

Orihime was looking into the middle distance again, as she was wont to do. Wonderweiss was not here today, he was off training, so she was mostly silent. She looked at him and shifted uncomfortably against the tree, wincing when she realized how abrasive the bark could be if rubbed the wrong way.

"You don't have to take me on a walk every day, you know. I get plenty of exercise as I'm doing my rounds, healing people."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you really don't. I don't mind staying in my cell."

"It's not safe to stay in there alone, this time of day. Aizen-sama wants you intact."

"I see." She started to look away again, but then he asked her a question.

"You think you are safe in that room?"

"No. I just don't think there's any reason to harm me when Aizen has ordered that I be left alone so I can eventually restore the Hogyoku for him."

"You believe yourself to be so instrumental?" Instead of elaborating, he took the time to evaluate her reaction: she was confused now, bordering on frightened.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you are not instrumental. Don't you think he would have made use of you already if he was so concerned about the Hogyoku?"

"Surely he's just taking care of certain preparations first, before I'm involved. I mean, this thing is so powerful and complex, even Aizen—"

"Aizen-sama is perfectly aware of how the Hogyoku works. Don't delude yourself into thinking he is less than omniscient with respect to such matters. You are marginally useful to the restoration of the Hogyoku, but extremely useful to the entrapment of your friends."

She fell silent and doubt spread across her face like an ague. He was mildly pleased with this. Her complexion was now as pallid as the trunk of the tree to which she clung, white-knuckled, and he could appreciate the symmetry.

 

"Yes, she is fascinating." Szayel raked his eyes over Orihime and proceeded to jot something down in a notebook. "An immanently, inherently inferior being unjustly possessed of a divine power. I should like to run some tests—"

"If you have to, I must remain here." Ulquiorra cut off Szayel's raptures at the quick. Orihime stood between the two Espada, mute and even more ashen-faced than she had been in the courtyard, while Szayel's Fracción chittered and leered as they circled the three of them.

"Why must you be so difficult, Ulquiorra? What's it to you what I do with her? After all, Aizen's only stipulation is that I keep her alive and capable of using her powers – we both know there are all sorts of things I could do to her while ensuring that requirement is satisfied."

"Her powers are based in her strength of will, Szayel. I've no doubt that whatever you have in mind would break her will. As you say, she is an inferior being. She does not have much of a will to speak of."

"You know, if I wasn't so convinced you're Aizen's dog, I'd swear you were trying to protect her." His thin lips curled into a sneer.

Ulquiorra was impassive. "Then you'd be a fool."

"Yes, but I'm no fool. Stay if you must and rein me in when you will, o mighty Ulquiorra-sama." Orihime followed him to the examination table and allowed him to conduct standard medical tests, which Szayel did without being unduly invasive.

"Expect a follow-up, Orihime," Szayel said to her. There was no malice in his voice, but she remained as pale as ever. "Much can be learnt from anomalies." She looked to Ulquiorra and he nodded, so she headed for the door.

Once they were securely out of earshot, Ulquiorra asked her, "Of what were you so afraid? Aizen-sama has said that no one may lay hands on you. Szayel cannot do anything to you."

"It wasn't him so much…it was those…things skulking behind all the lab equipment."

"His Fracción?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand why they bother you. Wonderweiss does not bother you. But they bother you."

"Wonderweiss is nothing like them."

"Why shouldn't he be? He's almost as rudimentary."

"He's nothing like them! He's…he doesn't lurk or sneer, he's not freakishly round or thin, he doesn't have a mouth that takes up half his face. No, I shouldn't say such things; it isn't their fault they look that way. The real difference is that he doesn't have malicious intent."

"You're wrong. All Arrancar have malicious intent. We are Menos that have removed their masks; we only appear human. Those of us who appear more human have higher powers of reasoning, but that is the only difference."

"But if you have a higher power of reasoning, then you should know right from wrong."

"Onna, we do not have emotions. Right and wrong are not rational constructs, they are psychological defense mechanisms through which humans seek to rationalize their weaknesses. Nothing more."

Orihime said nothing to this, but Ulquiorra could tell from the firm line in which her mouth was set that she did not believe him. More than that, she did not doubt that she was correct. It was the same expression she had when she had slapped him.

"Are we done? Is there anywhere else we have to go today?"

"Not at present."

"Good. Then I want to go back to my room."

 

She had been short with him. Normally she said little to him; he suspected that she was trying to avoid conflict in order to stay alive. She needn't have bothered; he had no reason to kill her and doing so would have conflicted with Aizen-sama's orders anyway.

He left her in her room, as she wished, began pacing the corridor, as he did every night, and ignored how tired he was, as he always did. As a Hollow, he had never needed sleep; he had never needed anything. Nothing was all he had ever needed.

Aizen-sama would want her untouched. What good would she be damaged? He was more than capable of keeping her from harm. Physically, she would remain sound, but psychologically, he was unsure. She grew more subdued and withdrawn by the day, except when Wonderweiss was around. So he would ensure that Wonderweiss spent as much time with her as possible, if only to create the illusion that she could desire something here and have that desire fulfilled. She adopted their dress, she healed their men, soon she would accept their customs because that is what humans do if they want to live and they want to persist in living.

Which they do. He knew there was no end to any thing, only a swift dispersal and a long reification. He wanted no thing, which must definitely have an end. It was an end in itself, for with it came the end of any thing. Aizen might bring this about, by his will or no. Ulquiorra would be there, and then he would not be. He would be no thing.


	4. The Pitied

"What are you looking at?" Orihime started and turned to him. She always did whenever he addressed her.

"Those…lizards." She pointed to a small den full of tiny lizard Hollows at the base of the tree in the courtyard they stopped in on their daily walks. There had been a ghost of a smile on her lips before he had spoken to her, though he couldn't imagine why. There was nothing remarkable about these creatures – they were lithe and quick, and that was about all there was to them. They barely qualified as more than brief disturbances in the perpetual flow of untapped reiatsu in Hueco Mundo.

"They're quite common, weak Hollows. They inhabit the dunes all over Hueco Mundo." She nodded and continued to watch them.

They were clearly a family. The largest one left, probably to hunt. The second largest lulled the young to sleep with a sort of throaty humming noise. Orihime seemed particularly affected by this, smiling outright.

"We should go." She briefly met his fixed stare with an uncommonly soft gaze, the likes of which he had never seen before. She rarely made eye contact with him; the longest they had looked each other in the eye was when she had slapped him. Her defiant glare had not affected him at all, but this momentary glance made him extremely uncomfortable, and he did not understand why.

As they headed for the upmost parapet of Las Noches by way of a towering spiral staircase, they came to a landing on which two Arrancar were arguing. It was Grimmjow and Rudbornn, the head of the Exequias, who made up the execution division of Aizen-sama's army.

Grimmjow sneered in turn at the perpetual sneer of Rudbornn's full-face hollow mask. "Did you honestly think Aizen would give you a premium on Ichigo's head? You weren't even allowed into the Espada; you're just a glorified errand boy."

"Szayel ordered us to kill the healer's nakama. You will just get in the way."

"Don't think for a second that you can stop me from doing whatever I want." Orihime had stopped at the beginning of the landing, which was large enough that the two Arrancar were a good distance away. Ulquiorra took care not to make eye contact with either of them.

"Ignore them," he told her. "Go up the stairs."

Rudbornn seemed about to realease his zanpakuto, but Grimmjow was ready for him. He bashed the Exequias leader into the wall of the stairwell with a single fist.

"Hahaha! That'll teach you to—" But this time, his fist met with resistance.

Rudbornn was enveloped by a softly glowing yellow dome. Ulquiorra looked at Orihime, who appeared as surprised as he was at what he was seeing.

"You stupid bitch!" yelled Grimmjow. "That was supposed to kill him!" Even as he said these words, he was heading for Orihime with the lightning speed of his Sonído. Ulquiorra was just as fast, however. He managed to deflect most of the bala that Grimmjow lobbed Orihime's way, though it nicked her and sent her flying into the wall, while the full force of it merely tore the front of his jacket.

"I wasn't going to kill her, idiot! I was just going to rough her up a bit," Grimmjow grumbled. By now, Ulquiorra had used Sonído to reach her side and pick her up, for she was unconscious.

"You are not to touch her, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said. "Aizen-sama has charged me with her care, and I intend to fulfill that charge."

"Fine. Whatever the hound of Aizen says, goes. Not worth my time anyway." He turned to Rudbornn, unconscious, but alive.

"Neither is he. Leave it, Grimmjow. Aizen-sama can make use of his services." Grimmjow scoffed at this, but grudgingly obeyed.

Their walk was over. He took the unconscious Orihime back to her room.

 

She woke up soon enough; her injuries were minimal. When she saw him standing in his usual vantage point in the doorway, she let out a shriek, but managed to stifle it with her fist.

"Your—your chest, it's…." She looked at him, shocked and horrified for a moment, but the moment passed. "I'm sorry," she said. "For a minute there, I thought you were a man with a hole blown in his chest, but then I remembered."

He looked down, recalling how Grimmjow had torn his shirt. Orihime was staring unblinking at the Hollow hole, which he now realized she must not have seen before.

"You protected me. You didn't have to. Thank you." She had turned that exasperating soft gaze upon him again.

"I carried out Aizen-sama's orders. That is all I am supposed to do."

"Yes, but somehow, I don't think Grimmjow would actually have killed me. I restored his arm to him, so he can only lose a valuable ally by doing that. You protected me from pain, and I thank you for it."

Ulquiorra was silent. He had no answer for this, for her or himself. She was smiling at him in that same faint way in which she had smiled at the lizard Hollows.

"In any case, like all humans, you are ridiculously weak. I am surprised that that attack did not do more damage."

"I got lucky, I suppose."

Now for a question she, in her turn, would be logically unable to answer: "Why did you help that Arrancar?"

"I don't know." She looked down hard at her hands, crossed in her lap, as if the answer was to be found there somewhere. "I didn't do it on purpose. I just reacted. I think it's because I hate to see the pain of others. I can't stand by if I can ease that pain."

"Why should you care about the pain of others? You can only feel your own pain."

"Well, physically, yes. But when I know someone is suffering and I can help them, I must help them, or their pain becomes my guilt."

"When you endanger yourself to help others, you risk death. If you want to live, then live."

"By saving lives other than my own, I sustain the most life it is possible for me to sustain." She would not be convinced. She could not conceive of her life as hers alone; she could only conceive of it in relation to the lives of others. He would let the matter drop.

"You can heal yourself, correct?"

"Yes. You don't need to worry about that."

"Then I will leave."

He left, finally released from a gaze he now realized was full of pity.


	5. The Deduction

A piercing white dappled the dark stone, the light of the moon refracted through spindly crystalline structures in the pool of moonlight on the floor of her cell. Orihime had been collecting the twigs and small branches that littered the dunes of Hueco Mundo, broken off the strange, seemingly petrified trees that grew there. When she was done arranging them, she sat on the couch and admired the patterns they made on the walls.

Ulquiorra always stared at her, as if perplexed, when she did this. She could never tell if he was actually perplexed, since his facial expression rarely changed, but she imagined that's why he looked so hard at her then.

"What do you think, Wonder-chan?" Wonderweiss gawped at the lights. She slid off the couch and onto the floor and began turning the nearest branch in circles, twisting one stream of light into a kaleidoscope of patterns. A huge grin spread slowly across his face.

"Call it light," Orihime instructed.

"Light."

"Yes, that's an easy one." She smiled at his big-eyed wonder, inexhaustible as ever, and absolutely captivated by these lights. "You don't get to see it shift and change, because your moon is fixed, but where I'm from, it's like a living thing. It has moods and a mind of its own. Like this light, filtered through the branches."

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," said Orihime. Ulquiorra entered and blinked rapidly, the pupils of his cat-like eyes narrowing to slits, as the light refracted through the branches was right in his eyes.

"Sorry!" She hastily jumped in front of the pool of light, casting a shadow over it so it wouldn't continue to refract light into Ulquiorra's eyes.

"What were you doing, onna?"

"Just move a bit to the left and I'll show you." He did. "There. See? The light of the moon is refracted through these twigs and scattered across the walls."

He looked at her, affectless as usual, but she sensed that he was, once again, perplexed.

"I just got bored. The light here never changes, and I…I missed that."

"Light, Ulqui, light!" Wonderweiss waved his arm in an arc over the pool of moonlight, and squinted at the changing reflections on the walls. Orihime stifled a laugh aloud as she thought, _Ulqui. Really?_ As usual, Ulquiorra was unfazed.

"I'm glad I could show you this, Wonder-chan. You may not get to see sunlight here much, but moonlight is beautiful too, and look at all the wonderful things you can do with it!" He smiled at her, and went back to waving his arms about.

"It's time for dinner," Ulquiorra said.

"Oh, yes. I'm actually quite hungry." An Arrancar servant arrived with a nondescript meal of tea and food like that which she would have eaten back home, and she ate it with relish. She was hungry for the first time since she had come to this place. She was starting to get used to it, and she wasn't sure if she was glad or troubled by this. In any case, she knew she had to integrate herself, at least somewhat, in order to better understand her situation, curry favor, and figure out how to destroy the Hogyoku. And she felt she had a safe vantage point from which to work this angle – whether he would openly admit it or not, Ulquiorra seemed set on protecting her. She would try to use this to her advantage somehow, but she had no idea where to begin. So she would try to understand him better and take it from there.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked, proffering the tea kettle.

"No." He looked confused. He usually left when her dinner arrived and the servant who brought it would take away the tray and utensils later.

"You can stay here with me while I eat, if you want. I know you stay on guard out in the corridor all night, so you can sit in here during dinner. It's cold out there; you can warm up here." She smiled faintly, not sure how he would react to this level of extraversion on her part. He said nothing, but sat on the end of the couch opposite her.

"How do you know if I'm out there?"

"I can sense reiatsu. Humans can do that too, if they have spiritual powers. Yours is overwhelming; I couldn't help but notice it. Are you hungry, Wonder-chan?" Wonderweiss hopped up onto the couch next to her, and she started to give him part of her food. "Is that alright?" Ulquiorra nodded.

"There's a lot of it tonight, but I'm not that hungry. Do you want any, Ulquiorra?"

"No."

"I never see you eating. Don't you get hungry?"

"I don't like eating."

"Why? I'm sure you have to, to keep up your strength."

"Yes, but I prefer not to."

"Oh. Well. You should try eating bland things, like plain rice. It hardly has a taste, and it will keep up your strength." He looked sidelong at her, and she shifted uncomfortably on the couch. She concentrated on the seams of light her homemade prisms cast upon the wall as she finished her dinner, ignoring the unbroken silence.

Later that night, she considered whether she should try practicing her techniques. Ulquiorra would sense the rise in spiritual pressure and probably ask her why she was doing so, but she felt safe enough now that if she was not allowed to do it, she would not be punished for it. But if that happened, she had no idea how she would prepare herself to destroy the Hogyoku.

And come what may, she would. It was the only way to bring all of this to an end, and to repay the long line of debt incurred by her inability to save herself. She never wanted any of them – Tatsuki-chan, Sado-kun, Ishida-kun, Kurosaki-kun – to risk their lives for her, ever again.

Her love for Kurosaki-kun was always close to the surface, like all of her emotions. Tatsuki-chan had told her so, and she had come to realize just how dangerous this was. She had to use it, though, as she couldn't suppress it. She would make it her armor, and she would wear it always.

"Santen Kesshun!" She'd never realized how bright her techniques were. The whole room was bathed in a soft golden light, and stirred Wonderweiss out of sleep. He looked on, slowly smiling.

Orihime turned to look at him. "You've never seen this kind of light before. It's called sunlight." He leaned back against the couch to take it all in.

Ulquiorra opened the door, but she wasn't startled, as she had been expecting this. He blinked in the light of her Three Sacred Links Shield.

"I'm just practicing. May I?" He nodded and turned to go, but then stopped and turned back to face her.

"Come with me."

"What for?"

"You'll see. It won't take long."

"I'll be back soon, Wonder-chan." But he was already asleep again. She shut the door quietly behind her.

 

They soon reached the courtyard they stopped by on their daily walks.

"One of the lizards has died."

Why was he telling her this? "I want you to bring it back to life."

"I-I don't know if I can."

"I want to see you do it."

"But I haven't done it, myself. I've seen someone do it once before, someone with powers like my own, but I haven't done it."

"Try. I was able to sense the dispersion of the lizard's reiatsu; that is how I know it was dead. But you should not have to. You should be able to bring it back without even seeking out its reiatsu."

She could only learn from this experience and perhaps help her friends with it later. With a will she didn't know she had, she tried. Eyes closed in concentration, she didn't realize that it had worked until she felt something skitter off her hand. She opened her eyes, too late to see the lizard, but it had definitely worked. She smiled.

"Why did you have me do that? Not that I didn't want to. I love that lizard family."

"I've seen you do many interesting things, but not unbelievable things. This is unbelievable, but I have seen it with my own eyes, so I must believe it."

"Since learning about Shinigami, I've come to believe anything is possible."

"Even destroying the Hogyoku?" Her eyes widened in shock. "I didn't actually know if you were thinking of doing such a thing, I just thought that you might. Your reaction confirms it." She'd never been good with deception. Now what would happen to her?

"Not necessarily. Why would I do that? As you said, my powers are based in my strength of will. And I don't have a very strong will, so why would I try to destroy the Hogyoku?" She tried to appear as self-assured and convincing as possible when she said this, but doubted that she succeeded.

"Because you are a fool. That is a type of strength of will in itself." She watched him watching her, but as always, his expression was unreadable. He did and said nothing more, so she began to hope that he would not harm her or allow her to be harmed, despite whatever intentions he may have thought she had. The status quo.

She turned to look at the lizard den, silent now as the creatures slept.

"What happens to Hollows when they die, if they aren't purified by a shinigami's zanpakuto?"

"Their souls are destroyed and they cannot exist in any form ever again." Orihime looked sadly in the direction of the lizard's den.

"I don't think that's true."

"It is a fact."

"Then what did I just do? I gave life to that lizard once again. He wasn't dead, not for all time. He was somewhere else, and I just brought him back here, to this desert, from that somewhere else."

"What you did was reverse time. You didn't recreate the lizard."

"How do you know?"

"That is what Aizen-sama has deduced."

"So he's deduced it. He doesn't know for sure. You don't know for sure." Ulquiorra was silent and turned to look out beyond Las Noches, into the dunes. It was his way of ending an argument in which he believed himself to be a victor, she realized. He had looked away from her in that same noncommittal way when she had denied Sado-kun's death.

"You don't know as much as you think you do. You may know a lot about me, but you don't know everything. I can promise you that."

"At the very least," he said, "I know that your powers are unbelievable. Once I understand them, then I will know everything about you."

Orihime fixed her eyes on his, and did not look away. She did not know what she was trying to prove, but meeting his thousand-yard stare seemed very important to her, right now.

"We are done here. We will return to your cell."


	6. The Gambit

The flow of reiatsu grew ever more taut. A tension was tangible in the air; though subtle, it was increasing. Her nakama was almost here.

She had never been tough. She had been kind and gentle and mild and all those second-tier monikers, but she had never been someone to lean on; she had never been someone to count on; and most of all, she had never saved anyone from anything, real or imagined. If Kurosaki-kun, the person she loved most in the world, could not entrust his body or his psyche to her, then who could?

She was sitting in her room, and Wonderweiss was elsewhere. Ulquiorra was probably in the hall, but he'd taken to cloaking his reiatsu lately, leaving her even more in the dark as to what was going on in the corridor.

Orihime could hardly bring herself to care anymore. She welcomed death, and hated herself for it. For the utter selfishness of it. If only her friends, who she did not deserve, could see to what extent she was subverting their expectations now – their conception of her as a saintly mother figure no longer rang true, if indeed it ever did. She had no idea as to how she would reach the Hogyoku, and mired in her futility, she could do nothing but despair.

She thought once again of her first day in Las Noches, and how her fate had been sealed from that moment on.

* * *

 

"Could you show us your power?" Aizen asked gently. Orihime felt a tremendous pressure constricting the flow of her reiatsu, even as he asked for a demonstration. Who was this man, that he could oppress her strength by his mere presence? What chance did she stand against him?

"Some of your comrades are not pleased to have you join them. Isn't that right, Luppi?" A small, effeminate Arrancar scowled in a fashion that did not become his delicate features, but he did not meet Aizen's eyes.

"I have every right to be angry," he scoffed. "That battle in the human world – it was just a diversion!"

"I didn't expect you to get so badly injured." Luppi scowled, but said nothing more after a sharp intake of breath.

"Why don't you heal Grimmjow's arm, Orihime," Aizen suggested. "That should be a fitting demonstration."

"Heal his arm?" scoffed Luppi. "He hasn't got an arm to heal! Commander Tousen saw to that. That girl isn't God!"

She knew she could do it; she wasn't afraid of that. What she feared was all she would be undoing – Ichigo's fight with this Espada, which had severely shaken Ichigo's confidence but had improved their odds ever so slightly. Though she stood directly in front of Grimmjow now, she didn't look up at him. But she could sense his disbelieving gaze on the nape of her neck. He towered above her.

Soon enough the vacant space next to his formidable torso was more arm than air, and her heart sank more with every passing moment. She really was working for them now. Luppi was yelling something about how lying would get her nowhere and he should just kill her now when the lambent glow of Santen Kesshun dissipated and the restoration of Grimmjow's arm became apparent to him. Luppi gasped. Orihime looked up, and Grimmjow's eyes were wide with shock.

"Ulquiorra had reported her powers to be the manipulation of time and space." He looked to Ulquiorra, who nodded. "And I see that it is true. These powers transgress upon the realm of God."

Grimmjow flexed his wrist a bit and turned to her. "Girl, heal this too." He turned his back to her, where she could see a large, superficial burn. She easily rejected it, and saw that his newly healed skin bore the number six of the Sexta Espada.

"What do you think you're doing, Grimmjow?" Luppi inquired with a baleful glance in the new Sexta Espada's direction.

"Just taking back what's mine." Before Orihime could so much as blink, Luppi was impaled on Grimmjow's arm. A manic grin the likes of which she had never seen before spread across his face. She couldn't look away, she couldn't even move. Who were these people…these creatures that so reveled in a life on the knife's edge between life and death?

Luppi vomited blood, trying to burble some words of protest. Grimmjow ceroed his wasted frame through the side of the building with relish and let out a great, bellowing laugh that chilled her to the bone.

"My power has returned! The true number six has returned!" Yammy looked on in stoic contempt, and Orihime noticed that Ulquiorra's eyes were closed. In boredom? In annoyance? She couldn't imagine it had anything to do with regret.

"I hope we've made a good first impression, Orihime," said Aizen, smiling at her gently. It was this mundane gesture that terrified her more than anything else.

* * *

She had cried in her room that night, finally. It had felt so good to feel something. She was used to feeling something all of the time. Well, of course, everyone always felt something, but she was used to expressing that something immediately, without any pretense of feeling otherwise. She had come out of her initial shock or horror or whatever awful, marrow-deep feeling she had experienced to deal with an unending, dull fear that she doubted would ever leave her unless she were to escape from this place.

Of course he had stood outside her door all night, listening to her cry. Why did he have to stand there? Did he really have to limit the space between them to a few inches of nondescript ivory stone? It rose from the sands of Hueco Mundo like some great monolith meant to be left untouched, so as to hold the heavens above the earth for all time. It was strange; she felt claustrophobic in the most open of places. There was a weight on her chest and a heaviness in her lungs. It was hard to breathe.

She knocked on her cell door. "Please! Someone! Take me outside! I can't breathe!"

Ulquiorra opened the door. "Come with me, onna." She staggered after him, panting. "And stop doing that. You can breathe; calm yourself. That is just the strength of Aizen-sama's reiatsu." She paced herself and began to breathe more slowly.

After some time, they reached the upmost parapet of Las Noches, and she saw fully for the first time the enormous central dome and the five squat towers of the Arrancar domain. There was nothing but dull white sand as far as she could see beneath a cloudless sky. Her breathing slowed to its normal rate without her realizing it.

"You have adjusted. Let us go." Ulquiorra turned the corner of the parapet and she followed, wondering if she was actually breathing correctly or if she'd given up and just stopped breathing altogether. Would it matter here? Nothing seemed real. Perhaps breath was a luxury. The cord that connected her to the real world may have snapped both physically and mentally, but she was not able to tell if she was bleeding inwardly, so she was afraid she would not know until it was too late.

* * *

_Present Day_

* * *

There was a knock at the door. It was time for dinner.

"C-come in," she said shakily, attempting to stifle her sobs.

Orihime sat on the couch with her meal as usual, and was surprised to see that Ulquiorra, too, was eating on his end of the couch. Plain rice as she had suggested when he sat with her at dinner last time. Unconsciously, she beamed in his direction. After thinking for some time about why he might not like to eat, she had realized it must have been because he was simply not used to it. Vasto Lordes' mouths are covered by their mask, so it is likely that he had never experienced the sense of taste before becoming an Arrancar. Perhaps it overwhelmed him.

"I've never seen you eat before." He said nothing.

"I'm glad you're eating. Everyone needs to eat. And you brought my favorite tea!"

"All the tea is the same."

"Well…" she tailed off, flustered. "I said I really liked it the other day and it tastes the same today. It must've been the way you had it heated or something…" They sat in silence, staring at her crystalline twig collection for the remainder of the meal. She tried to sneak glances at him, though he always ended up returning them with an unblinking stare that made her feel guilty for looking. How different he was from all the Espada she had met so far. He had none of the simpering malice of Luppi or the restless animosity of Grimmjow. He was cold and observant, curious, and generally averse to violence. She couldn't understand him at all, but whenever she spent some time with him, she ended up feeling surer of herself. He guaranteed her protection, and if she could just think hard enough for long enough, she still might be able to figure out how to destroy the Hogyoku. If it was possible to be here, in a place more terrifyingly fantastic than anything she'd ever witnessed, surrounded by the most evil creatures she'd ever encountered, and still find a protector, then it was possible to destroy the Hogyoku.

He got up to leave.

"Do not forget, onna," he said to her, "I am not human. Wonderweiss is not human. Nothing has changed but your willingness to live here amongst us unhumans."

"Okay, Ulquiorra," she said brightly. "I'll play by your rules." He always went above and beyond what was necessary to insure her safety. She intended to solidify this alliance, whatever its basis in fact.


	7. The Hypothesis

"Ulquiorra, I need to speak with you. Alone."

"What is it, Szayel?" Orihime looked at Ulquiorra, brows knitted. But he did not ask her to stay, nor did he do anything to reassure her, so she left the examination room.

Once she had closed the door, Szayel approached Ulquiorra from behind his laboratory workbench, running a gloved hand through his faint pink hair with a perfunctory knowing smirk.

"That girl is useless."

Ulquiorra was silent for a moment, then spoke in his usual even tones. "How do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said. From what I know about the Hogyoku, which is, in fact, far more than Aizen thinks I comprehend, the Hogyoku is not actually deteriorating. Therefore, her presence is not actually required."

"But she has power over life and death. I have seen it myself, as have you. I am certain Aizen has some use for her. He has no obligation to us to tell us in what way he finds such assets particularly useful, for he has no obligations to us to do anything at all."

"I have examined this girl, psychologically as well as physically. There is nothing in her that would make me believe she could prove of any particular use to him. Besides, she does not have the will to use that power, if she does indeed posses it at all. I am beginning to think she is merely bait for the captains of the Gotei 13, to lure them away from their posts so that Aizen can more easily invade Karakura Town."

"What does it matter?"

"Well, obviously, that ruse failed. The captains have not come. So why bother to protect her now?"

"Clearly, Aizen-sama's objective differs from what you have assumed to be the case."

"Well, to be frank, I think it is all a game to him." He looked at Ulquiorra with an impudent glint in his eyes, a subtle, involuntary sneer curling the corner of his mouth. "Does he really need us? You, who think so highly of his power, should have deduced by now that he does not. The Gotei 13 are not coming; we now only have to dispose of the girl's pathetic nakama. Surely you, who believe so firmly in the immensity of his power, do not believe her continued existence to be necessary."

"It is obvious that you want to do something to her, Szayel. However, I have been ordered to keep her safe, and I will do so until I am told to do otherwise." Ulquiorra's impassive demeanor hadn't changed – his gaze remained steady and disinterested, anything but hostile, and his hands hadn't moved from his pockets. Yet the tension in the lab was palpable.

"We've talked about this before. I'll say now what I said then: Aizen's only stipulation is that you keep her alive and capable of using her powers. Why are you so set on exempting her from experimentation?" There was an edge to Szayel's voice now, more than the mild irritation and condescension with which he had begun the conversation. Yet he retained that glimmer of delight in his eyes, and he tutted under his breath at Ulquiorra's every reply.

"You say 'exempt' as if it is your right to do what you will with any prisoner we take. Don't forget your place. We serve Aizen-sama, and that is all. We have no further purpose."

"I heard about how you protected her from Grimmjow. You risked a fight with him just to save her from pain! A mere human who, as you yourself have acknowledged, could have healed herself anyway! At the very least, you are going far above and beyond your duty to Aizen. It is more likely that you…" Here Szayel stopped and laughed caustically, fully and openly. "…that you…that you care for her!" He was inches from Ulquiorra's face now, lips curled into a smile that was now more snarl than sneer. Ulquiorra did not move. He did not even blink.

"Save your idle blather for one who would listen to it. I don't have time for it." He pivoted on the spot and turned to walk away from Szayel. He did not look back.

 

Ulquiorra waited outside of the long white doors that opened onto Aizen's balcony. He reported to Aizen every day at this time, immediately after taking the woman for a walk. They had had to forgo that walk today because of her medical appointment.

Aizen's aides, Loly and Menoly, flanked the entrance, sulking sullenly in the smooth, slender alcoves on either side of the door meant for Arrancar sentries like themselves.

"So, Ulquiorra," said Loly, walking straight up to him and jabbing him in the arm. Menoly, who Ulquiorra took to be the more sensible one, silently mouthed something like "Stop" in her direction, but Loly paid her no heed.

"What?" he asked her.

"When are you going to let us mess with that girl?"

"What could you possibly gain by doing as such?"

"Don't change the subject!" she snapped. The flinty glare of her magenta eyes fixed on the unchanging emerald stare of his own.

"I am not changing the subject. I am merely suggesting that your pursuit is a pointless one."

"You are infuriating." She roughly gathered the folds of the front of his hakama in her small fists. "Why do you care so much about her?"

Ulquiorra slowly, but forcefully, prized Loly off himself. "Please," he said, adjusting the front of his hakama, "I have already been confronted once today about that woman who it is my duty to protect from meddling. I would rather not have to deal with your feeble attempts to defy Aizen-sama's will."

"But it's not his will!" Teeth gritted and eyes alight with that undying contempt of hers, Loly lunged at him, only to be stopped by Menoly. Ulquiorra hadn't bothered to move, but Menoly used Sonído to put herself between the two of them.

"Loly, calm down. Ulquiorra-sama takes his orders from Aizen-sama just like us," said Menoly, now restraining an increasingly feral Loly.

"Don't be stupid, Menoly! He does nothing just like us. The other Números and Espada defend Hueco Mundo while he skulks here, wandering through the halls of Las Noches with his precious human in tow. The only person he serves is that girl!"

"Shut up! Do you want to get yourself killed?"

But Ulquiorra said nothing, and was in fact not even looking at the two of them, his eyes closed now, as was his wont when overtaxed by social interaction he found bothersome. The doors opened and he entered.

Aizen sat languidly in his high-backed, lily-white throne, neck craned sideways so as to afford him a view of Hueco Mundo from this highest balcony in Las Noches. Once before Aizen, Ulquiorra gave his report. "All is as before, Aizen-sama. The woman is physically safe and mentally sound."

"Very well," said Aizen dismissively, as he turned from the panorama of the pale desert beyond the balcony to face the fourth Espada. "But we will not be needing her any longer. You might as well hand her over to Szayel for experimentation now."

There was a pronounced silence in the room for a moment. "Aizen-sama…why is she no longer useful?"

"From the start, her presence was merely a means by which to attract the attention of the Gotei 13. This proving futile, her existence is no longer necessary. Do what you will with her."

"How do you mean?"

"Exactly that. You can do whatever you want with her. Szayel has been going on and on about how perfect a subject she would be in his latest pet project. I'm sure Nnoitra would have fun with her; he seemed keen on her."

Another pronounced silence. "I take it you will not require an audience with me at this time any longer, then?"

"No, Ulquiorra, I shall not."

Ulquiorra silently and deliberately took his leave, the door closing on its own behind him. Loly and Menoly stood at their posts once again. He descended the stairs, heading back for the woman's cell, and reviewed his course of action: he would keep the woman, alive and whole, until such time that he understood what it was about her that rejected the nonexistent, that which nullified the void, that which had rent a gaping hole in his comprehension of life, death, and vulgar purpose.


	8. The Fable

Ulquiorra could sense the pressure of her spirit, even at this great distance. She was practicing again, the warp and the weft of her rich golden reiatsu winding sinuously through the air, weaving the powers of life and death together. With one hand she could dissemble the lie of life, with the other, invoke the truth of death.

He had descended the steps and finally reached the corridor in which the woman's cell was located. Once at the door, he knocked and she opened it right away.

"Hello," she said, smiling slightly, then creasing her brow in confusion. She was as put out as he was by the intimacy of this greeting. Wonderweiss was sitting on the couch with her, his hakama rumpled as usual, his rheumy violet eyes strangely attentive. He hadn't even looked at Ulquiorra; his eyes were fixed on the woman.

"Time for dinner?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, "but we are going for a walk first."

"Why?"

"You had your appointment earlier, so we did not go. I thought that was obvious."

"Yes, I know, but it's not a big deal if I don't go this once."

"It is important that you have some semblance of regularity in your life. Your mental stability is essential to Aizen-sama's plan." He had lied outright. Why was he doing this? He brushed the thought away, as it didn't really matter. He wasn't disobeying Aizen by lying about his intentions. He was told that he could do what he wanted with this woman, and he wanted to understand her, but he didn't want her to think for a moment that he was doing her any favors.

"I see. Can Wonder-chan come?"

"Yes." The three of them headed down the long corridor and out under the changeless blue sky of the dome until they reached the tree in the courtyard at which they always stopped before walking back. The woman showed Wonderweiss the lizards that dwelt at the base of the tree, and he watched them silently, crouching at a distance, cupping his knees in his hands.

"You were practicing earlier."

"Yes." She wasn't looking at him; she seemed not to care what he thought. She was watching Wonderweiss with a smile on her face, a full, genuine smile which Ulquiorra had never seen her display out of the company of her friends.

He decided not to pursue the matter. He had told her she could practice, and there was no way she'd ever be able to destroy the Hogyoku, so he might as well allow her to continue.

"Then you did something to Wonderweiss."

"Wonderweiss? What do you mean?"

"I have never seen him behave this way before. Alert. Focused on a single thing at a time. Capable of filtering out distractions."

"Oh, I told him a story. I didn't think he would stay still long enough to hear the whole thing, but he did."

"What story did you tell him?" He could feel the woman's uneasy gaze upon him, though he was not looking at her, but at the endless dunes of Las Noches. She was confused, and afraid because she was confused. She did not know why he cared, or if perhaps he had some punitive motive for asking her this. He hardly ever spoke to her, much less inquired after her everyday pursuits.

"The story of Cupid and Psyche." He turned from the dunes to look directly at her, so she knew he wanted her to go on. "It's a fairly complicated story, so I'll spare you the details. But it's mainly an explanation of how Cupid, who is Love, and Psyche, who is the Soul, become one."

He looked at Wonderweiss again, crouched in the same attitude as before, staring rapt and unblinking at the lizards. "A potent sentiment."

"What is?"

"The idea that the soul is somehow attached to Love – that an individual's consciousness is of a piece with an abstraction meant to systematize dependency."

The woman seemed to stifle a smile at this statement. "You make it sound rather impotent, actually."

"It is impotent when considered by any being with the ability to think both in the abstract and in the concrete. Wonderweiss is no such being."

"How can you be so sure?" Her mouth was set in that firm line, a rare expression of obstinacy and self-assurance that indicated she did not believe him. The same expression as when she had slapped him.

He didn't really want to dignify this with an answer, but there were other things he wanted to talk about. "That is beside the point. No union exists between the soul, the substance of existence universal even among dead things, and the heart, an abstraction meant to systematize dependency. And even if it did, such a union would not exist for a Hollow."

"I do not believe that Hollows have no hearts."

"Then you are—" He stopped midsentence, for he noticed silent tears streaming down her face. It had been a long time since he had seen her cry; the last time had been just after she had slapped him. He had heard her crying through her door many times. It was a rather beautiful sound – unexpectedly melodic. Her tears crystallized and liquefied the dove gray of her eyes all at once, and he noticed that they were a lighter, brighter gray in the center, like dew on a cloudy day. These were eyes made to cry, he thought, for every creature she took pity on, forever. He could imagine her crying for herself rarely, if at all.

"My brother," she said in steady tones, having recovered herself, "was once a Hollow. He is in Soul Society somewhere now, but I saw him before he left. And I have no doubt that his heart, like his soul, never left him. He resisted the impulse to kill me, and if you are a Hollow, it takes a heart to do that. This…" She reached towards Ulquiorra and held her hand over his chest, where she knew his Hollow hole to be. "This doesn't mean anything. It can be anywhere on your body, which isn't really a body anyway. It's a vessel for a soul waiting to be freed. And every Hollow, every Arrancar I have ever encountered has had desires, aspirations, sympathies…you are not devoid of hearts, you are hearts, exposed like nerves where flesh and bone have decayed to leave you subject to pain and suffering of the most acute kind."

It was all wrong, he knew, but it made him feel something he had not felt since he had roamed Hueco Mundo as a companionless Vasto Lorde, perpetually hounded by vicious lesser spirits – terror. Yet he could not stop listening to her, and stood as still as Wonderweiss crouched, rapt and unblinking before her fathomless gray eyes.

"Ulquiorra, maybe I could help you and the others. Maybe I could save you from the pain of this existence on the knife's edge between life and death. If you would come with me, we could talk to my friends. They are powerful and knowledgeable. I think they would know what to do." She wrung her hands, white-knuckled, and then reached towards his chest.

He stopped her hand immediately, though he did so by gently grasping her arm.

"Woman. Stop. You speak in the language of poets and dreamers. My existence is not a metaphor upon which you may lavish your pity. I am a weapon devoid of emotion and possessed of a single purpose. It seems I must tell you again: I am not human. Wonderweiss is not human. Nothing has changed but your willingness to live here amongst us inhumans."

She closed her eyes and turned from him, as her tears continued to flow down cheeks flushed with weeping. Ulquiorra thought about how he seemed to be weeping as well, though his tears were green, permanent, and above all, meaningless.


	9. The Embrace

It will help to have read [the Ulquiorra-centric chapter in UNMASKED](http://ebony-of-the-moon.deviantart.com/gallery/30633280) in order to know what Ulquiorra is talking about and what his dream was about, but it's not necessary. However, if you are an UlquiHime fan, you really should - it's beautiful and basically makes UlquiHime canon.

* * *

 

A few inches of nondescript ivory stone were all that had separated them for the past few days.

Aizen had held a second audience with Ulquiorra three days ago. Orihime did not know what had been discussed, but ever since then, he had never been far from her room. Dark shadows had appeared beneath his eyes, and he seemed even more distant than usual, lethargic even. She couldn't imagine that this was physical tiredness. Could he even sleep? Perhaps he could. Despite knowing that Wonderweiss slept, she still wasn't sure if Ulquiorra did.

"You seem tired."

"I am fine."

"Maybe you should go…sleep?"

"Don't trouble yourself, onna."

Orihime found herself becoming anxious on his behalf. Maybe she was deluding herself, but she thought of him as her protector. He wasn't on her side, certainly, but he did not seem to resort to force in any situation unless it was absolutely necessary. He was gentle with her, gave her a bit of freedom, ensured that she did not come to any harm despite knowing full well that she could heal herself if need be. If all was right with the world, he wouldn't even exist. It was hard enough to be a Hollow, but as an Arrancar with human reasoning, he was a Hollow acutely aware of his half-life, of the malaise in between life and death. That he could suffer as she imagined he might and still be as kind as he was seemed reason enough to trust him.

He was never more than a few feet away from her. He took all his meals with her, and he paced the corridor beyond her cell when he was not with her, in her room. He no longer took her on walks. In silence, they sat at either end of the table now, eating dinner together as they did every night.

When she was done, Orihime looked up to see if Ulquiorra had finished. To her surprise, she found that he had fallen asleep, head against the armrest. She was surprised by how vulnerable he looked. She had noticed how much smaller he was than many of the other male Arrancars and even the single female Espada she had seen in Las Noches. But his presence and self-possession had diminished the effect of his small stature. Asleep, he appeared as unguarded as any human. His breathing was measured and slow, his mussy ebon hair spread in a heap about his head on the armrest he had awkwardly leaned his head against. One hand lay palm down on the couch, the other, palm up, fingers spread and relaxed, hung off the edge. She considered waking him up, but why should she? He clearly need the sleep.

She stood up, gently lifting Wonderweiss off her lap and laying him down again. Nothing woke that boy up, she thought, smiling to herself. Once he was gone, he was gone. He curled himself tightly into a fetal position and began sucking his thumb. Orihime covered him in her blanket and picked up the food tray after quietly putting everyone's dirty dishes on it. Normally, Ulquiorra called for the Arrancar footman waiting outside to come take it, but she didn't want to call for him and wake Ulquiorra up.

He was sleeping only fitfully now, tossing and turning. As soundlessly as she could, Orihime opened the door, but Ulquiorra sat bolt upright, looking right at her with his luminous green eyes wide open, pupils narrowed to slits. She nearly dropped the tray in surprise.

"I'm sorry!" she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you, Ulquiorra-kun." Wonderweiss burbled softly in his sleep.

Ulquiorra seemed to have recovered from whatever had woken him. "Don't call me that," he said softly.

"Call you what?"

"Ulquiorra-kun. How many times do I have to tell you? I am not a human, and should not be treated as such."

Orihime could feel the color rising in her face. "My apologies. I didn't even realize I said that. It just slipped out."

He stood up slowly, smoothed out his hakama, and closed his eyes.

"Ulquiorra…why have you been spending so much time with me lately? Why have we not been going for walks anymore?"

He opened his eyes and stared hard and unblinking at the smooth white wall in front of him. "I need to show you something."

"Alright…is it okay to leave Wonder-chan here?"

"Yes. Just come with me."

* * *

They walked far out into the dunes, further than Orihime had been since she had arrived in this place. The sky was a dull black with no life in it, not like the vivid midnight blue of the night sky in the living world. But since her arrival in Las Noches, Orihime had come to appreciate its stark beauty – the infinite, unblemished white of the sands, the quiet, fixed luster of the moon, the stiff, starched grace of the trees. It was not an unpleasant walk.

Finally, they came upon a vast brake of trees, immense, high reaching, and nigh-impenetrable. Ulquiorra stopped and looked at her without expression. They stood that way, for a time, and Orihime sensed that she would have to be the first to speak.

"It's very beautiful."

He craned his neck to look at the canopy. "Yes…" He began walking toward the thicket. "Follow me."

They came to a place where the bracken was not as thick, and Ulquiorra removed his zanpakuto from its sheath. "This is a distasteful way to use it, but…" He began to hack at the undergrowth and cleared a path for them.

They were deep into the thicket now, probably at the center, since Orihime could barely see the desert through the thick lattice of the white trees. Or perhaps she could see it better than she thought; the white of the trees was not so different from the white of the sand, and all seemed to blend together. There was little space for them to move about here; Ulquiorra had had to slice a more accommodating ceiling, but they still stood very close together, such that Orihime was uncomfortable.

"This is where I lay for a long time," Ulquiorra said, "until my mask was removed."

"What do you mean?"

"I slept here for a long time, hardly ever waking, when I was still a Hollow. I did not need to eat. I was a Vasto Lorde, so I did not require reiatsu to survive. I came here for the void, for the oblivion."

She looked at him questioningly, and he continued. "You see these trees? How they seem to meld with the desert in a seamless pallor, without color or form?"

"Yes, I noticed that. Particularly here, in the middle of it all."

"That abyss…that oblivion is what I want. What I have always wanted, and the only thing I have ever wanted…I have never been "happy," per se. I don't really know what happiness is, other than that it is one of the main motivations for human action. But I suppose you could say I was happy when I lay here. Complete, even. I was perfect, because I had no beginning and no end, no pain, no sense that I was part of anything, that I was anything. It is the only thing that has ever caught my eye. But you…" He paused and turned his thousand-yard stare on her. "I want to look at you. I want to understand you. Why do you not see that nothing is necessary, that no thing is necessary? Why do you hold others more dear to you than you hold yourself? Can you not see that you would not need them, or anything else, if you embraced the void instead of rejecting it, as your powers allow you to?"

It was strange to hear him speaking such vehement words with such affectless intonation. Orihime set her mouth in a firm, straight line, as she always did when she was certain that she was in the right. Seldom did she do this, but when she did, she always stood her ground.

"Life is important to me," she said in measured tones. "I love it with all my heart – or to put it in a way you might understand better – I want it, the way you want nothing. It is the prerequisite to every need, desire, or dream. For this reason, it is only logical to assume that others must want it as much, if not more. I think it is only fair that they be allowed as much life as possible. I want life, but not as much as I want the happiness of others. If it is within my power to more fairly distribute the share of happiness allotted to humanity by protecting others, then I will. Of course, not everyone deserves their share, but I know people who do. So I fight for them."

"Life is not fair. You alone can never atone for the unhappiness that is the lot of most of your kind."

"But I can try. If only a few people other than myself are made a bit happier, then I will have done my duty."

"What of _your_ happiness?"

"I am most unhappy when those around me are denied theirs and it is in my power to grant it to them."

"If you mean to do so by destroying the Hogyoku, I can assure you that that is not in your power."

"You said before that you didn't understand my power. Do you understand it yet?"

Ulquiorra was silent.

"Onna, Aizen-sama has no need for you anymore."

"What…what do you mean?"

"He spoke with me three days ago. It was the second time that he told me so. The first time, he said I could do what I liked with you, but this time, he told me that you might be made more useful through other means…by other Arrancars."

This must be why he had stayed at her side all this time, hardly sleeping, and why they no longer went on walks. "What…?"

"I believe he intends to tell the others, sooner or later, that you are no longer under his protection. Perhaps he already has."

"How could I be made more useful? What use would they have for me?"

"I do not know. I suspect that Szayel, specifically, has designs on you."

"So…are you going to…hand me over then?" She could feel her blood running colder by the second.

"No. I am too interested in you."

"Interested?"

"I will not let them harm you. I want to preserve you as you are; if they damage you mentally or physically, then I will no longer be able to understand what you are now: something fleeting and unfathomable that my eyes cannot perceive."

"Is that it, then?" There were tears in her eyes now, and her voice was breaking. "Or are you perhaps feeling something that you understand even less than you understand me?"

There was little space between them in the thicket, and Orihime closed the gap, flinging her arms about him as quickly as she could, since she did not believe he would be receptive to her embrace. He did not react, he did not even move. But he did not push her away.

"Do you care about me?"

"No," Ulquiorra said softly, but seemingly against his will, he had begun to run the fingers of his left hand through her hair, slowly. Orihime looked up at him, arms encircling his shoulder blades, unsure how to feel or what to do next. His eyes were wide, as if in fear, and glazed over, gazing steadily into the middle distance.After he had run his hand all the way through, he gently pushed her away. "No."

She said nothing more, and waited to see what he would do next.

"Regardless," he said, "I will not let them hurt you, for the reasons I have mentioned. It is time we headed back."

* * *

Ulquiorra knocked on Orihime's door, just after she had fallen into a fitful slumber. She opened it, but he did not come in. He merely stood in the doorframe, staring at her.

"What is it?"

"Aizen-sama has ordered me to fight your friend. He draws near, the one you said you would give your heart to, even in five different lifetimes."

After she had recovered from the initial shock, she embraced him again, and again, he did not resist.

"Do not do this, Ulquiorra. You have a choice. There is always a choice. And if you care for me at all—"

"I told you earlier; have you already forgotten? I do not care for you. And I follow Aizen-sama's orders."

"You… you cruel—" He pushed her away from him, this time with more force, for she clung to him with all her strength.

"I just want to understand you. And I want you to understand just how unobtainable mundane happiness is, for you and those for whom you fight. Emptiness, and an end. Those are true happiness. You will believe me, soon, and you will be glad."


End file.
